


They Fall

by Lumielt



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Blood, Death, Gen, Hunger Games AU, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-11 00:26:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3308840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumielt/pseuds/Lumielt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And I light up the sky / Stars that burn the brightest / Fall so fast and pass you by / Spark like empty lighters<br/>Hunger Games AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOTES

Please read this before you begin the story.  

I had to make some changes to both The 100 and the Hunger Games' respective settings/canon in order to fit them together. The changes are as follows:

                There is no one on Earth. The Grounders, Mountain Men, and Ark/Sky People are all Ark citizens. The earth is otherwise the same as it is on The 100: survivable, but with plant/animal oddities and leftover nuclear fallout. 

                District 4 has been changed from Fishing to Water (purification and recycling of drinking water, monitoring the water, etc).

                District 6 has been changed from Transportation to Space Exploration.

                District 7 has been changed from Lumber to Oxygen (growing plants for oxygen, cleaning the air, etc).

                District 9 has been changed from Grain to Medical. The reason for this is that I feel that there wouldn't be enough room on the Ark to practically have both Grain and Agriculture. 

                District 12 has been changed from Mining to Repairs (fixing the Ark, pods, etc).

                Dante Wallace has been changed to Dante Snow, and is not related to Cage Wallace.

                Any character that didn’t have a surname has been given the surname of their actor.

Anyone that is an adult (Anya, Lincoln, Bellamy, Gustus) in canon is an older teen in this (if they're in the Games). If I don't set a specific age for them, imagine them as 16-17. 

                :) Thanks for reading. 


	2. The Reapings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reapings of the Districts.

              **Luxury.**

                The Luxury district is the wealthiest district, and also—or maybe because of that—the most hated district. They’re one of the few districts on the Ark that wants for nothing: their oxygen levels are always high, their food is always fresh, and no one wears hand-me-downs.

                Because of this, being chosen for the Games is considered an honor, not a necessity. Who needs extra food and air? They’ve been raised to fight purely for the glory, and despite their soft and (literally) luxurious surroundings, they’re often brutally harsh people, capable of, well, murder.

                It’s tradition for the male names to be drawn first. Cage Wallace is prepared to volunteer, but instead is delighted to hear his own name fall off the lips of the caller. Applause rings out as he smiles a wolfish grin, moving to stand on the stage. He’s a cold-blooded 17-year-old, and is fully prepared to win the Games. There’s no doubt in his mind that he will: what Cage wants, Cage gets.

                A few seconds pass as the caller waits for the crowd’s applause to quiet, and then she fishes around in the bowl of girls’ names. She pulls out the paper, and calls out the name.

                Maya Harlow doesn’t seem as thrilled as the rest of her district, not by a long shot. Cage sizes her up silently, lips still curled in amusement. A little younger than himself, acting brave, but obviously frightened; he can see tears threatening to spill from her eyes, but she holds herself together as she joins him on the stage.

                On televisions across the Ark, large words flash across the bottom of the screen. _DISTRICT 1 TRIBUTES: CAGE WALLACE AND MAYA HARLOW._

 

 

                **Masonry**.

                Lincoln’s name is called first, and though he puts on a hard face, his heart quietly sinks. He’s loathed these games for as long as he can remember; it was never his dream to be a part of them. His nightmare, maybe.

                As he walks to the stage, his life flashes before his eyes. Not his past, but the potential life of his future: the life that could be. He’d been planning to apply to change districts soon: no more of this harsh, weapon-oriented district. Agriculture, maybe, or Medical, or…

                Repairs. He isn’t interested in repairing things—he’s handy, but doesn’t have much interest in it. No, his interest in the Repair district is the girl with the dark hair and eyes. He’s only seen her a few times, on the rare occasions he goes to help supply the Peacekeepers of that district with new weapons or armor. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, until the first time he laid eyes on her. 

                Now he’ll never see her again.

                Anya’s name is second, and her face is as impassive as Lincoln’s. Their eyes are the only difference: whereas his are quietly mournful, hers have lit up with a cold confidence.

                Like Cage, she has no doubt that she will win.

                _DISTRICT 2 TRIBUTES: LINCOLN WHITTLE AND ANYA LACHMAN._

 

                **Technology**.

                Raven’s thrilled. Scared as hell, yeah, but also thrilled and determined. She’s going to earth. She couldn’t make it as a zero-g mechanic—some stupid deal with her physical exam—but no one can stop her now from blasting off and touching down. Breathing real air. Feeling real sunlight.

                Wick is significantly less thrilled, but hides it with one of his usual grins.  

                Both refuse to let the thought of death enter their heads. If either did, they’d probably collapse right there and give up. Better to focus on the positives for now—they’re going with a friend, they can team up, they’re going to earth!—and consider death when they need to.  

                _DISTRICT 3 TRIBUTES: WICK TALLEY AND RAVEN REYES._

 

                **Water**.

                Water is essential to life on the Ark, and District 4 knows it. It might seem like an awful, droning job (and it kind of is), but over the years, District 4 has built itself up to lofty importance. They’re as well-off as 1 and 2, and their tributes are all Careers.  

                Arguably, the Water citizens are the most dangerous of the Career districts, for an odd and singular reason: they all believe in reincarnation. When you die, only your body dies, and your soul will come back later. Like sending a game-piece back to ‘Start,’ rather than wiping it off the board completely.

                Because of this, 4’s tributes are always bloodthirsty and ruthless. Who needs an excess of caution when you have unlimited do-overs? They’re always sought out for alliances, and heavily avoided if that alliance is refused.

                This year, their tributes are an older boy named Gustus, and a girl of 14 called Lexa.  They’ve known each other for years, despite the four-year gap between them, and Gustus has become something of an older brother and protector to Lexa.

                They make a powerful team, standing on the podium, looking out over their cheering district. They don’t look like children; they look like warriors.  

                _DISTRICT 4 TRIBUTES: GUSTUS PAUNOVIC AND LEXA CAREY._

 

                **Power**.

                There’s a mix-up in the Power district that takes almost half-an-hour to clear up. Somehow, a boy’s name has gotten into the girls’ bowl, and out of sheer chance, his was the one drawn.

                Eventually, it’s decided that while it’s bad luck and a weird mistake, fair is still fair. The official rules state that two names must be drawn from a bowl for each gender: it doesn’t necessarily say that the tributes _themselves_ must be a boy and girl. Just the bowls. Sorry, Jasper.

                _DISTRICT 5 TRIBUTES: MONTY GREEN AND JASPER JORDAN._

 

                **Medical**.

                Clarke doesn’t volunteer, but she doesn’t shy away when her name is called. Inside, she’s outraged, horrified, terrified…but she tilts her chin up and strides onto stage with all of the power and grace she can muster.

                Wells _does_ volunteer, and Clarke’s eyes flash with anger. The two teens stand stiffly on the stage as the caller congratulates them, and when they shake hands, Clarke’s nails dig into Wells’ skin just a bit too much to be considered accidental.

                _DISTRICT 9 TRIBUTES: WELLS JAHA AND CLARKE GRIFFIN._

               

                **Agriculture**.

                The Ark gives a collective sigh as the twelve-year-old’s name is called. She’s obviously trying not to cry as she walks to the stage, but tears fall down her cheeks regardless. She’s small, even for her age, especially when compared to the other, older tributes chosen so far.

                John Murphy is not half as sympathetic as the rest of his District. Yeah, it sucks for Charlotte, but it sucks for everyone else going as well. She isn’t special just because she’s young. They're all just gonna die in the end. 

                _DISTRICT 11 TRIBUTES: JOHN MURPHY_ _AND CHARLOTTE VIDOVIC._

 

                **Repairs**.

                The girl’s name barely leaves the caller’s lips when Octavia gives a shout, volunteering herself as tribute. Bellamy wants to scream. He knew this was coming, he _knew_ she would do this. _Why is she doing this?_

                (Deep down, of course, he knows why. His strong, stubborn, trapped little sister, wanting desperately to get down to earth and prove her worth. While having more than one child isn’t against the law, it’s extremely frowned upon socially. An extra child means more air consumption, more food consumption, and a selfish family, and as the second Blake child, Octavia bears the weight of that disapproval daily.)

                No one is surprised when Bellamy, silently thanking fate that it’s still a month till his eighteenth birthday, volunteers as well. No way is he letting Octavia go through the Games on her own.

                Octavia’s lips set in a thin line. She wanted to prove herself on her own, to show everyone she wasn’t a waste of space and supplies, and that she doesn’t need to rely on her big brother to make something of herself. (In her heart, though, she’s relieved. Bellamy is going to be with her; he’ll make everything okay. He always does.)

                Like Raven and Wick, neither think about the cold truth that in the end, one of them will have to die.

                _DISTRICT 12 TRIBUTES: BELLAMY BLAKE AND OCTAVIA BLAKE._

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

                In the Capitol of the Ark, President Dante Snow is handed a list of this year’s tributes. He doesn’t especially like the Games himself, but who does? It’s terrible. But it’s necessary. Without the Hunger Games weeding down the population each year, they’d run out of oxygen and precious food and supplies far more quickly than they already are. He sighs, and then looks down at the list in his hands:

                District 1: Luxury: Cage Wallace and Maya Harlow

                District 2: Masonry: Lincoln Whittle and Anya Lachman

                District 3: Technology: Wick Talley and Raven Reyes

                District 4: Water: Gustus Paunovic and Lexa Carey

                District 5: Power: Monty Green and Jasper Jordan

                District 6: Space Exploration: Finn Collins and Roma Reid

                District 7: Oxygen: Sterling Tracey and Monroe Stuart

                District 8: Textiles: Nathan Miller and Harper Reist

                District 9: Medical: Wells Jaha and Clarke Griffin

                …

                District 11: Agriculture:  John Murphy and Charlotte Vidovic

                District 12: Repairs: Bellamy Blake and Octavia Blake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Where was Finn's reaping?" You might be asking, or "How come not every reaping scene is here?"  
> Every reaping scene will come out eventually, during the story. In The 100, not every character's backstory is put out at the beginning. Sometimes there's a flashback scene, or sometimes they're told to another character, but they're all revealed over time. The same is happening here.   
> So, I'm sorry they aren't all here now, but they'll be included soon :)


	3. Training

                Training is really just a formal tradition that everyone refuses to drop. How much can you learn in just a week? Not enough to make a difference between life and death, certainly.  

                No, it’s purely a formality, and a way to make kids feel a little better. Learn how to hold a sword, learn what plants to eat. Feel like you might stand a chance as you try not to look at the Careers swinging weapons around like it’s second nature.

                Clarke has a basic knowledge of medicinal plants, and because of her med training, she knows what parts of the body to target. She’s not used to weaponry, exactly—she tries a bow and misses, lifts an axe and is surprised by its heavy awkwardness—but she manages. With luck and knowledge making up for lack of precise skill, she might be able to do this.

                The girl from District 1 (Maya? Was that her name?) is focusing intently nearby on using a bow, but it’s obvious she, too, has little to no experience. Odd, considering her district, but Clarke guesses the girl had just never considered being a tribute. 12’s girl is hacking and slashing at a dummy with a long, curved sword, while the Water tributes watch with amused expressions.

                “Hold it like this,” a male voice murmurs from nearby, and Clarke turns. It’s an older boy with dark, curly hair. She’s fairly certain he’s the boy from 12, the one that volunteered for his sister—the entire Ark is buzzing about it. What was his name again? She can’t quite remember.

                He’s crouching next to the little girl from Agriculture, apparently teaching her. “Like that, okay, now aim…steady…then throw.” He moves her hand forward in a throwing motion, and Clarke watches as a small knife hits the target. It isn’t a bulls eye—not by a long shot—but it must be better than the girl was doing before, since she beams happily through a tear-stained face.

                “There you go! You did it,” 12’s boy—Bellamy, that was his name, Bellamy Blake—grins as well, handing her another knife. “Put your mind to it, and you can do anything. Hold that knife tight and slay your demons.”

                 Slay your demons. Cute—and obviously better for the girl to hear than the impossible ‘slay 23 older, stronger kids’. Clarke’s torn between being impressed at how sweet the boy from 12 is, helping out a little kid like that, and shaking her head at the pointlessness of it all. 23 kids are going to die, their blood soaking the radioactive ground in crimson, and she highly doubts the winner is going to be the 12-year-old from Agriculture.

                Clarke moves on to the edible plants, where the two boys from 5 are eating blackberries and goofing off. She sorts wild onion and parsley from belladonna, learns the difference between poisonous and edible berries, and despite herself, keeps glancing back at Bellamy Blake.

                Charlotte’s practicing knots and rope-tying on her own now, and Bellamy’s gone on to slash at dummies with his sisters. They fight well, if slightly erratically, with a teamwork born only from a lifetime spent together.

                1 and 4’s girls—Anya and Lexa, both Careers—are watching the Blakes as well, although they look significantly less impressed and intrigued than Clarke. Anya’s face is unreadable, eyes narrowed beneath heavy, smudgy makeup. Lexa’s eyes flick between the siblings, looking for all the world like a lion sizing up prey.

                The older of the two murmurs something, and they both pick up training swords as well and walk to the mat next to Bellamy and Octavia. They circle each other slowly, and then begin to fight.

                If the Blakes fight with teamwork, the two Careers fight with the skill and ferocity of trained warriors. Their blades glint and flash and ring out loudly as they hit, bodies moving too quickly for Clarke to keep track of each movement. Octavia’s abandoned her dummy to watch, and a frown creases her brother’s face.

                They aren’t the only ones watching, Clarke realizes. The two boys next to her have abandoned their wild edibles like Clarke, turning their attention to the swordplay nearby. John Murphy of 11 is watching with a grimace, and both District 1 tributes have their lips pursed and their eyes on the two Careers.

                Technology’s boy is staring openly, making occasional comments that Clarke can’t hear from where she is. Tech’s girl is studiously ignoring him, frowning deeply at the knot she’s working on, apparently refusing to give any attention to Anya and Lexa. Charlotte, next to the Tech pair and holding the small knife Bellamy gave her, looks as if she’s given up on all hope.

                Anya finally pins Lexa, and the room falls silent. One of the boys next to Clarke murmurs “whoa,” to which the other responds “dude…”.

                And then the Blake girl breaks the silence, tossing her hair over her shoulder and striding over to the two Careers.

                “Fight me next.”

                “Octavia,” Bellamy begins, as Anya says flatly, “I don’t fight amateurs. Get out of my way.”

                Octavia glances at her brother—a warning glance? or just a stubborn one? Clarke isn’t sure—before pointing her sword at Anya. “I’m not moving unless you _make_ me.”

                The mat is simply lying on the ground; Anya could walk around Octavia, or simply turn around or go the other way. But instead, 1’s tribute sizes Octavia up for a long moment, and finally raises her own training blade. “So be it.”

                “Pretty killer, huh, Princess?” As Octavia leaps towards Anya, a voice next to Clarke makes her jump. Turning, she finds a brunette boy leaning against the edible plants table, grinning at her. “Careers definitely know how to fight.”

                “Princess?” Clarke repeats. On the mat, Octavia falls, sword skittering out of her hand. Lexa’s lips twitch in an almost-smirk from the sidelines.

                “Don’t like it? I think it fits.” The boy pops a blackberry into his mouth before grinning again. “Finn Collins, District 6.” District 6…Space Exploration.

                “Clarke Griffin. Medical.” Clarke doesn’t quite smile but doesn’t quite frown, either. She isn’t sure if she likes Finn Collins yet—but she’s finding it kind of hard to _dis_ like him. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s smiling a cocky, breezy smile, like they aren’t all about to die. Like Octavia Blake isn’t getting the crap beaten out of her, nose and lip pouring blood, like everything isn’t completely stacked in the Careers’ favors, like there’s nothing else in the world but Finn and Clarke and the blackberries of the edible plants display.

                “Nice to meet you, Clarke,” Finn says, and Clarke echoes the sentiment.

                The girl from Mechanics is still frowning at her knot-work, and the boys from 5 have moved on to camouflage, painting stupid things and flicking paint onto each other. Octavia falls to the mat and doesn’t get up this time, and Anya strides away as Bellamy runs out to help his sister up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels a little bit scattered to me... sorry about that! I hope you all like it anyway. Next time is the interviews (it will probably be written a lot like the reaping chapter; going through the various characters) and then on to the Games. 
> 
> On another note, I hope I got Finn at least semi ic--I have a hard time writing him :p


	4. The Interviews

                After a week of training, everyone is fitted for formal clothes, given crash courses in what and what not to say on TV, and covered in beauty products until their skin glows, their eyes sparkle, and Clarke feels like she’s wearing a mask. They started doing makeup only a few years back—turns out that most people feel a lot better when the tributes all look like gleaming, professional adults, not a bunch of scruffy kids being sent to their doom. Then it’s into some formal clothes and off to the Ark-wide interviews.

                Clarke tugs at her dress as she waits, uncomfortable in the unfamiliar garment. No one wears dresses anymore, except for incredibly formal events, and the dress she’s currently in—a bone-white piece with silver details, supposedly designed to harken back to the crisp, sterilized environment of the medical profession—feels bizarre to her. She almost envies Wells’ simple tuxedo, but it looks about as stiff and uncomfortable as her outfit.

                The others all look as awkward as she feels. Even the Careers fidget slightly, smoothing fabric and shifting in their chairs. There are a few exceptions, of course; Charlotte looks like a doll in pale blue, and the Mechanics look surprisingly stunning. District 7’s Monroe has had her hair done up in complex and beautiful braids, while Luxury’s Cage Wallace seems the most at ease of anyone in his crisp suit.

                Finally, the sound of Marcus Kane’s voice sounds from the TV mounted in the waiting room. As Gamemaster, he not only conducts the Games, but all interviews as well.

                “Good evening, Arkship.” His voice is perfect for the occasion, and Clarke wonders bitterly how often he’s practiced this tone. Just serious enough to let everyone know he isn’t fooling around, that he doesn’t like doing this hard, cold thing—but confident enough to lighten everything up a bit, to not let the viewers get too upset or mournful. Keep them grounded, but keep them interested. “As you all know, tonight we’ll be conducting the interviews of this year’s tributes. But before that, I’d like to say a few words…”

                A short speech follows. It’s the same as last year’s, changed just enough to not be considered a total copy. Kane talks about how noble these young people are, how their sacrifice is for the greater good, they won’t be forgotten. He says that there will be a final representative that will return and keep the names of the other tributes alive and unforgotten—like this isn’t one big death competition. Like Cage or Anya or whoever wins is really going to care that Sterling and Murphy and Clarke herself are dead and forgotten on the ground.

                “So, having fun?” Wells tries to joke, to lighten the mood and maybe lift Clarke's grimace a bit, a tentative smile playing on his lips.

                “Not with you here.” Clarke replies shortly, and tries to ignore the pang of guilt that immediately follows as the smile drops from Wells' face. Wells betrayed her. Now he was following her to both their deaths. No, she was not having fun.

                Marcus’s speech wraps up, and then the interview truly begins. One by one, the Tributes sit on armchairs behind cameras, trying to casually answer Kane’s questions.

                “So, first of all,” Kane asks, “can you tell the Ark a little about yourself?”

                “I’m from the Medical district,” Clarke replies flatly. She’s supposed to talk about more than just her district—they went over this before they went on camera—but what can she say? She’s an artist, she loves to draw, the walls of her room are covered in sketches? She dreams about the ground and trees and summer breezes? Her dad’s dead and her mom’s distant and her best friend stabbed her in the back? “I’m learning to be a doctor.” These people may think they deserve Clarke’s death, but they don’t deserve to know her life.

                “I’m Raven Reyes from Tech.” 3’s girl gives Kane a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I fix things. I build things.” And she makes illegal deals, but she leaves that out.

                “Well, I guess you could say I’m pretty unlucky,” Jasper Jordan jokes. By now, everyone’s learned about the mix-up in his district. “But hey, I get to go to earth with my best friend, so I guess I’m not _that_ unlucky.” He’s terrified, but he grins at the camera regardless.

                “And what are your overall thoughts concerning the Games?” Kane leans one elbow on the arm of his chair, the picture of an interested listener.

                “I think it’s kind of great,” Octavia is finding it hard to sit still, fidgeting restlessly with nervous energy. “I mean, we get to be the first people on earth in a year. We get a chance to prove ourselves, and to experience earth—it’s kind of cool.” Except for the whole dying thing, but she refuses to think about that. She spent all of training practicing with a samurai sword, and she’s ready. She has a plan.

                “It’s a load of bull,” Agriculture’s John Murphy scoffs, then adds a few other comments that are cut before the show is aired.

                “I’m looking forward to it,” Anya Lachman drawls calmly.

                “And how do you feel about your chances?” Kane frowns slightly, seemingly concerned.             

                “I feel excellent.” Lexa’s demeanor is cool and collected, but her eyes burn with an inner fire. “I have been chosen by the spirits to be a victor, and I’m confident that I will not prove them wrong.”

                “I’m not afraid,” Charlotte’s voice is quiet, but steady.

                 “Not super great, I guess,” Monty admits, “but not _too_ bad.”

                “Not good at all.” Wells says steadily. He isn’t coming back; he decided that during the Reaping, when Clarke’s name was called and he himself volunteered. “Not good at all.”

                “What do you think about your competitors so far?” is the next question, and this causes most of the Tributes to pause for a moment, considering.

                “There are some strong competitors this year,” Cage admits, with a grin that silently adds _but not as strong as me_.

                “The Careers are pretty bad.” Monroe says slowly. “But I don’t know. We’re warriors.” She glances off camera to Sterling, before looking back to Kane and shrugging.

                “And finally,” Kane says, “is there any special message you’d like to send your District? Any words for your friends and family?” He doesn’t say ‘last words,’ but everyone hears it.

                “I’d like to apologize to my mother,” Bellamy says in a low voice. “And I want her to know I’ll look after O, not matter what.” His tone takes on a dangerous edge during the last statement. It’s audible even through the junky TV in the waiting room, and Clarke can feel a shiver go through her.

                “Yeah, to Snow: screw you,” Raven lips. “Tell Dante Snow to go to hell,” Murphy says. Both comments are cut by the TV directors.

                “I’d like to tell my father there’s a letter for him, in my desk drawer,” Nathan Miller says. “He can read it now, or…later. When I’m gone.”

                “I’d like to tell my dad that I love him.” Part of Maya knows that doing things like this, saying emotional things during the interviews, can make you look weak. It turns you into a target. But a bigger, braver part of her doesn’t care. Let them target her, so long as she can give her dad these last few words.

                “No.” Clarke says. “There’s nothing I want to say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify, everyone had their interviews one at a time, in regular order. But I thought it would be dull to write/read it that way, which is why it's written the way it is.


	5. The Dropship

                They load everyone into an old dropship, strapped into their seats with tracker bracelets clamped around their wrists. There’s no more fancy clothing; the Ark can afford to dress the teens up for one day before reusing the outfits, but not to send them all to their deaths nicely clad. No, the day of the Games, everyone wears what their families can afford to give them.

                For most, this means standard clothing—the girl from Tech has a rusty-orange parka that’s clearly seen better days, Octavia Blake has obvious hand-me-downs—but as per the usual, the Careers are the exceptions. Lexa, Gustus, Anya, and Lincoln all wear heavy armor-like outfits of metal and leather and fur. Clarke doesn’t even know how they managed to _get_ fur and leather—synthetic, probably, but who knows? Luxury’s Cage Wallace is wearing a suit that practically _screams_ cocky, and Maya’s rose-colored sweater has to be softer and warmer than any worn-out coat the rest of them are wearing.

                The air of the dropship is charged with energy. Everyone seems torn between fear and excitement. There’s still time to pretend that they aren’t all going to kill or be killed; still time to whisper to friends about trees and _real air_ and that kind of thing. But there’s an underlying tension. Alliances were formed in training or are forming now. Mental plans are calculated, and enemies (and even allies) are sized up and looked over for weak points. Clarke’s eyes move from face to face, trying to picture what each is thinking. Are John Murphy’s fingers twitching out of nerves, or because he’s imagining wrapping them around someone’s throat? Are Finn and Tech’s girl exchanging glances because of a truce made between them, or because each plans to target the other before anyone else?

                It’s a dangerous game, and it hasn’t even started yet.

                The dropship shudders, whirring and groaning as it detaches itself from the Ark. A video appears on the previously blank screen before them; a list of rules, with Kane’s voice coming from the speakers.

                It’s all fairly standard; Clarke knows most of it from previous Games. Only one person can return. All fights are fair, so be on your guard. Don’t leave the area that’s been set as the Arena. When you land, you will be given ten seconds to get off of the dropship before the Games officially start. Anyone that attacks someone early will be automatically put down by the Ark via their bracelet—there are cameras on earth and the dropship. A Cornucopia will be waiting on earth with weapons and supplies. Kane drones on, but most of the Tributes stopped paying attention after the first few rules were listed.

                The video turns static for a few seconds as the dropship shakes violently, jolting the strapped-in Tributes in their seats.

                “We’re in earth’s atmosphere,” Wells’ voice carries over the whispers and murmurs of the other Tributes. “We’ll touch down soon.”

                When they do, it isn’t gentle. Clarke feels bruised and shaken, and her fingers fumble with her seat’s buckle.

                “Happy Hunger Games, Tributes.” Marcus’s voice comes through the speakers. “In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until the Ark’s final journey to the ground. May the odds be ever in your favor, and may we meet again.”

                The dropship doors open, flooding the small area with sunlight. A countdown comes to life onscreen, a large 10 appearing in bold black.

                _10 seconds_.

                There’s a moment in which everyone is still as stone, rattled by the landing and ears ringing from the impact. Some don’t seem to realize the countdown’s even begun, too busy trying to undo their seatbelts or getting unsteadily to their feet, blinking in the sudden light.

                _8 seconds._

                The career districts and the Blakes are the first to move towards the door. Clarke and Wells follow, others beginning to move behind them. Clarke spares a brief glance back at those behind her. Raven Reyes must have hit her head during the landing, looking dazed and frowning as blood stains her temple. The boy from 10 is having trouble with his seatbelt, his district partner—was Fox her name? Clarke thinks so—trying to help him undo the apparently jammed buckle. John Murphy is pushing past people, getting outside just before Clarke herself does.

                _6 seconds._

                For a minute, the Games don’t even exist anymore.  All that exists is Clarke and the sunlight streaming through the trees, warming her face and turning the world white-hot in the millisecond before her eyes adjust to the sudden brightness.

                The Cornucopia is really just a large, angular, hollow piece of metal in the vague shape of a horn. Moss and rust are both slowly spreading across it, surface dented and worn from years of rain, sun, and Games past. No one is allowed to approach it—not yet, not until the Games officially begin—but about half the Tributes outside are hovering nearby. Lexa and Gustus must have made an alliance with Anya, since they’re in a loose formation together. Bellamy’s muttering something to Octavia in a low voice, but Clarke can’t make out what.

                _4 seconds._

                “Clarke, we need to move.” Wells says urgently. “Get to the trees before the timer goes off.”

                Clarke opens her mouth to speak, then shuts it again as she glances behind her once more. 10’s boy is still stuck in his seat, and Raven’s on her feet but still obviously dazed. “Get out of here, Wells.”

                “Are you crazy?” Wells demands in a hiss, eyes darting towards the other Tributes. He’s known Clarke since childhood, and he knows how her mind works. “Clarke, you can’t help them. It’s too dangerous—and we’re all going to kill each other anyway.”

                “If we’re all going to kill each other, it’s just as well that you and I don’t run off together now,” Clarke snaps back, then turns. In several quick strides, she’s next to Raven, who’s currently being supported by Kyle Wick. “Let me see her head.”

                _2 seconds._

                “I’m helping you.” Wells states, jaw set stubbornly.

                “Find a knife and cut through his belt,” Clarke directs, gesturing towards Fox and her district partner before returning her attention to District 3. Raven’s getting a lump, which is a good sign. Dents in the skull are what kill people. “Can you run?”

                “Yeah, I think so.” Raven’s looking at her strangely. She has one hand to her head and isn’t entirely steady, but she no longer needs Wick’s support, and it looks like the worst of the bleeding’s stopped. “Why are you helping me?” She asks bluntly.

                “I don’t know.” Clarke’s reply is equally short, but not entirely truthful. She has a perpetually active instinct to take care of others; to help them, to save them, to make sure they’re okay. Maybe it’s a savior complex. Maybe it’s just from growing up in the Medical district, watching her mother taking care of people all day long. Either way, the streak that’s in Clarke is refusing to let her just leave 3 and 10 here now.  

                _0 seconds._

                A piercing whistle sounds, cutting through the dropship’s audio system and into the sunlit air outside. It echoes off the Cornucopia and through the surrounding forest, and all hell breaks loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Games are about to begin! Warning, from here on, there will be deaths. The plan is to keep the deaths semi-canon with the show, so you might be able to guess who dies first/in what manner ;)  
> I'll also be without internet for a bit, so this will be the last chapter until I can get back online. Sorry for the cliffhanger! Rest assured I'll use my time offline to write more of this and will update as soon as possible.   
> Anyway, I hope you're all enjoying They Fall so far :) Please R&R, your input means a lot to me!


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